Election Fever

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So the election process is now over and as a neutral(ish) observer it was an intriguing time to be in the country. During the run-up to the elections I would frequently have my assumptions challenged in conversations with people, and it was fascinating to feel the atmosphere change suddenly and then back again almost as quickly.

It felt at times like everyone had a stake in politics. I could not understand it. Nearly everyone I had met, even those with seemingly no interest in politics, suddenly became obsessed supporting one candidate or another or even standing for one of the infinite positions in local government.

Finally, in a conversation with Nicholas in Mbale I discovered what might be behind it. He was fervently supporting his cousin in his quest to be an MP, rushing around places to check votes weren’t being stuffed in ballot boxes. He was talking of the fact that they had run out of money to pay for any more advertising as they had already spent 3 million (roughly £800) that week and about 20 million (between £5000-6000) on the campaign.

“How much!?” I exclaimed. I asked the question that had been bothering me the whole campaign “Why do people invest so much in becoming a politician?” and the inevitable follow up question, “How much do they get paid?” Nicholas told me that it was ‘not that much’ about 5-6 million per month in basic salary but all the bonuses, expense allowances etc. bumped it up to around 15 million…”it’s not so much the money you get why your serving as the contacts you make and the people you mix with. After five years any business you have is bound to make off.”

His blasé attitude about the money shocked me almost as much as the amount. It seemed a huge amount to me at a time when government teachers earned 200,000 and the police under 100,000. I later found his estimates to be conservative as analysis of the 8th parliament (the one that has just been) found that backbench MPs took home 21 million. Converting this amount into pounds or dollars does not really translate what a vast amount of money this is where 90% of the population earns less than $4 a day.

I realise my shock about the amount of money surrounding politics, particularly campaigns, comes from my lack of exposure, and even lack of interest, in the actual nitty gritty of politics in Britain. It would not be the case in Uganda. It is very difficult to find an educated, reasonably well of, Ugandan without any stake in politics.

My experience, however, has been skewed as I was staying in an urban area and mixing with relatively well off and well-educated Ugandans. The reality for most of the population is that once they have received their free sugar, salt or 500 shilling (17p) ‘appreciation’/bribe (depending on the political party they are from) from politicians they are not really that interested as they realise they are unlikely to benefit for another five years.

While the official figures had voter turnout at a respectable 58% (though down on previous elections), the EU estimated that only 30% actually turned up. The complete mess of the voter’s register certainly meant that the official figure is skewed. Whatever the true proportion, well under 8 million votes were counted in a country of around 33 million. Even accounting for the young population I think this shows that many were not really interested.

The consequence of such large rewards is that people will risk everything to get into a good political position. I watched with dread as my host sister Flavia funded a free full-time vocational school for local people, along with large sums on posters, megaphones, events and an entourage for her campaign. There was evidence of the squeeze in our house, some items suddenly disappeared, presumably sold, 4 meals soon became 3 and certain foods, particularly meat, fruit and vegetables, were no longer on the shopping list.

Still, she did not feel she would lose that much compared to her main rival who had sold her house to fund her campaign. The completion of a new house she was building was based on the assumption that she would win the election.

It was not just the money, I barely saw Flavia. She would go to work in the morning, come home about 6 and then be out until 11 campaigning. Weekends were spent going out house-to-house, seeing key people to ensure she had their support. She would go to a different church each Sunday to get support, once she went to five different services in one day. Fridays she would take off to visit the Mosques.

All of this was just for, as she admitted, a small insignificant seat as LC3 Woman Councillor; a representative for women’s issues for three villages with a population of less than 30,000 between them. It was the opportunity to move onto bigger things that attracted her, next the LC5 position and then the ultimate prixe with the ultimate rewards, parliament.

As she candidly admitted afterwards, “politics isn’t my main passion, I was going to use it as a platform to launch my other business.” Alas, it was not to be as she lost and as so often in Ugandan politics in controversial circumstances. Unable to pay enough people to protect her votes in one polling station she felt she had been robbed. There was talk of going to court where many of the local elections end up, but without the backing of a political party it was felt to be one risk to far.

The family are still suffering financially but will survive. The dream of moving to the next level of Ugandan society will have to wait another 5 years. To their immense credit, they have kept the vocational school open, though they are now charging students enough to stay open. They have even donated to our education centre. Unfortunately they are something of a rarity in Ugandan politics, and few involved in politics at the local or national level sustain anything beyond the flurry of pre-election handouts.

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